Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 105306 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 527(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105306 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 527(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
And you want me to meet you there so we can…do what?
I don’t know. I thought I could drive you home.
What about your brothers? Don’t you drive them around?
They can find their own rides.
Oh.
I guess I could meet you in the parking lot. How do I get there
You’re gonna wanna walk from your section to section AA, which is the clubhouse entrance…I park in that lot.
I didn’t even know that lot existed.
I’m typing as I walk and have yet to tell Winnie and Sav I’m going to say my goodbyes once we’re in the corridor, hallway thing. It’s a miracle I’m not smashing into people as I walk and text at the same time, my eyes trained on Winnie’s backside so I don’t lose her.
Well I’ll be down by my truck waiting. Jumping in the shower real quick.
They have showers in the locker room?
I mean, duh—of course they have showers in the locker room.
All right, don’t be long. I don’t want to be wandering around a parking lot that may not be the right parking lot.
I’ll find you
Ok.
Sliding my phone into my back pocket, I tap Winnie on the back and get Sav’s attention.
“Ladies, change of plans. Dallas just texted me and wants me to meet him in the clubhouse parking lot.”
Clubhouse parking lot? Listen to me sounding like I know what I’m talking about.
“Oh my God,” Sav enthuses, getting excited. “I can’t wait to meet him in person.”
Well, this is going to be awkward. “Just me, I think.”
She cocks her head. “Did he say he just wanted it to be you?”
I laugh. “Uh, pretty sure he wasn’t interested in a crowd. He’s telling his brothers to find their own ride home. We’re gonna hang out, I guess.”
Sav stares at me, feet pinned to the ground, unconvinced Dallas Colter intended for me to meet him alone.
She’s being so weird, and I don’t like it.
“What if we come anyway? He won’t have a problem dropping us off at home,” she presses.
Winnie takes her by the forearm. “Let’s let her be alone with him, shall we? He always has people up his ass, and I’m sure he’s tired.”
My friend winks at me.
“But—” It seems Sav is ready with another argument before Winnie interrupts her.
“Come on, Sav, let’s hop on a shuttle. I’ll text Rookie and see where they’re partying tonight.”
They.
His fraternity brothers and co.
“Thank you,” I mouth to her, grateful she’s saving me from an uncomfortable situation.
Sav is deflated and annoyed at missing her chance, which wasn’t an actual chance to begin with, but I can see she resents me in this moment.
“Fine.”
I hug them both and walk in what I can only assume is the correct direction, only stopping to ask one person wearing a STAFF vest if I’m going the right way.
I am.
Nervous once I reach the door, I place a hand on my stomach to calm it before pushing through, stepping out into the cool autumn air, grateful I’m bundled up in all this gameday gear.
I glance around, eyes scanning the busy parking lot, cars slowly creeping through the aisles with one goal: working toward the exit.
My phone buzzes.
Winnie:
Did you find him?
Not yet…
Just checking to see if you’ve been murdered in the parking lot or not.
Nope, still alive. Plenty of people on the off chance I need to scream.
Still scanning the lot, still no sight of Dal—
Oop. Spoke too soon.
There he is.
Leaning against his truck like some kind of hero in a movie, watching me walk toward him, arms and legs crossed. Skin red, hair damp.
He’s like Jake Ryan in Sixteen Candles come to life, and if you’ve never seen that movie, it’s an oldie but a classic my mother used to make me watch when I was still at home.
Do yourself a favor and Google it.
Dallas is dressed in a rumpled sleeveless T-shirt, track pants, and a tired expression.
I raise a hand to greet him. “Hey.”
He yawns. “Hey back.”
I glance around. “So. Here we are.” My hands rise. “In the parking lot.”
“Appears that way.”
He’s still leaning against his truck, seeming in no hurry to be anywhere—except it’s cold and I’d rather not stand here.
“How are you not freezing cold?”
I shiver.
“I just ran my ass off for three hours, in case you didn’t notice.”
Oh, I noticed all right.
I noticed, my friends noticed—heck, the whole world noticed considering the game was televised.
“You’re moist, though. You should still put a jacket on even if you’re not cold.”
“Did you just call me moist?”
“I said you’re moist. I didn’t call you moist. There’s a difference.” He needs to cover up so he doesn’t get sick.
I tousle his hair. “You’re wet.”
Damp.
Not dry enough to not get a cold or the flu if he’s going to insist on standing out here.
I hug myself and dramatically say, “Brrr,” hoping he gets the picture and hurries to the point.